


Trevor Phillip's Revenge

by PinkBellPepper



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Bound, Brainwashed, Buttplugs, Captives, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Human Dog, Human Furniture, Human Pet, Humilation, Latex, M/M, NSFW, Porn, Rape, betrayed, collared, franklin is turned into a dog, gagged, kidnap, michael is turned into furniture, noncon, redneck culture, slave - Freeform, treated like an animal, trevor takes revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24159613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkBellPepper/pseuds/PinkBellPepper
Summary: Trevor kidnaps Franklin in order to lure Michael into a trap. He's brainwashed Franklin into a mindless, horny dog. And he plans on turning Michael into a piece of furniture he can rest his feet on. Trevor came up with the idea high on meth. Who knew it would be the best idea he'd ever had?
Relationships: Michael De Santa/Trevor Philips
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

Michael pulled up into the red neck territory, driving an old pick up he'd stolen from the freeway. Its wheels dug into the dirt and carried him along to the address that the unknown sender had sent through text. Of course, the sender wasn't that unknown. Michael had a bad feeling that he knew he who was behind Franklin's disappearance. The kid had been gone for over two months now. Michael was happy he wasn't dead, but scared of what his old friend could have done in that time. All kinds of bad thoughts raced through his head as he turned off the engine. 

_Maybe I shouldn't have taken on a protégé_ , Michael thought, as he stepped out of his car.

The old trailer homes were as dusty as the rest of the land. Michael stepped up the creaky porch and knocked on the screen door. He wet met with the muffled banging of someone hurrying through the space too quickly. When it swung open, he was greeted to the beaming, greasy smile of none other than Trevor Phillips. 

"Michael De Santa! Well if it isn't my good pal, a ghost back from the dead! Crazy how that worked out, huh!" Trevor pulled back, waving his arm backwards. "Come in, come in! Please, we have a lot to discuss!" 

Michael hesitated going in. But the weight of his pistol was a small comfort. He stepped into the stagnate air of fast food and burnt stove top dinners. Trevor pulled up behind him with a heavy clap to his shoulder. The redneck robber leaned against him. His breath was hot on his neck, and Michael resisted the urge to shove him off. He saw the knife at his side, flashing under the low light. Trevor's hands were scouring over his waist and jacket. They found the gun and pulled it free. Michael groaned. 

"Hehe, don't think I don't know how you roll, buddy," Trevor laughed cockily. He put away the knife and used the pistol for himself, pressing the cold steel to Michael's neck and shoving him towards the slumping couch. "Go on now, sit."

"I'm here for Franklin, Trevor. He's got nothing to do with what happened all those years ago," Michael said coolly. He still sat, though, and looked up at the gun that pointed between his eyes. 

"Yeah? You wanna see your friend? A little Michael, was that it? Were you training him to take on that mantel of yours?" Trevor asked, his face suddenly twisting up bitterly. "I bet you've used that mouth of his before. Is that why you're looking for him? Need your cum-fuck back?"

"Jesus, Trevor," Michael cursed. "I forgot how damn vulgar you are! Now where the hell is Franklin."

Trevor smirked then and Michael didn't like the cold pit that fell in his stomach. Trevor jerked a thumb towards the sliding glass door, leading out to an even shittier lawn with a small, but tall metal fence. The ground was dirt and there was a wooden post stamped at the center. Michael stepped outside into the heat and Trevor followed behind with the gun. By the post, there was a large red doghouse. A chain slinked into the drawn curtains of the entrance, it's end looped and locked around the pole. 

"Where is he? What are you pulling, Trevor?" 

"Just call for him, dipshit. He'll come. Oh, and scream all you want. Franklin did. But uh, hehe, Cletus helped me out with that. Guy has a knack for weird shit."

Trevor shoved Michael forward so he fell on his knees, then slammed the glass doors shut. He laughed as Michael stood up, shoving down his fear as he tried not to imagine being eaten alive by a guard dog. He kept close to the door when he called out for his protégé. 

"Frank! Hey, Franklin, you-!"

The chains shuffled. Michael gulped, but nearly choked on his own spit when, instead of a dog head, a human one popped out from between the curtains. A very Franklin-looking head, blindfolded by black fabric and sniffing at the ground like some kind of animal. 

"W-What the fuck?" Michael stammered. His back hit the glass door. Trevor was standing behind him, watching with a big grin. 

"Hehe, that's only the half of it!" Trevor laughed maniacally. 

Franklin's broad shoulders pushed through the curtain. He was wearing a black, spiked dog collar that was connected to the heavy chains. They ran under his hand and feet, which Michael realized in another layer of horror, that they were padded in some kind of leather mits. The sniffing stopped when Franklin lifted his nose and took a large inhale. Michael gasped and the head snapped towards him. Franklin bared his teeth like he really was some kind of dog and growled. It was terrifyingly realistic. He started to slowly stalk towards Michael with that growl growing in volume. 

"Oh- oh shit, Franklin," Michael moaned. "Fuck, kid, what did they do to ya'!?"

Franklin didn't answer. His jaws snapped together, biting the air as droll started to puddle down the corner of his lip. He barked loudly and pounced, bounding towards Michael on all fours like he'd done it his whole life. Then the glass was sliding along his back and a hand roughly grabbed the back of his suit. He was yanked inside. Michael stared past his feet at Franklin clawing rabidly at the panel, smothering it in spit and fog as he howled for blood. The whole neighborhood had to have heard him. 

"What the fuck!" Michael took a swing at Trevor blindly. The man easily side stepped him and kicked him in the ass, sending him against the door. When he turned, sitting on his ass and with a new headache, the gun was pointed back at his head. Trevor had the biggest, greasiest smile on his face. 

"I knew you were fucked in the head, but this some next level shit, Trevor."

"You left me thinkin' you were dead for ten fucking years, Michael. I don't take kindly to being played like that. But hey, I'm a nice guy," Trevor shrugged. "So when I heard you were back in the business and had a new partner, well, I thought I could help you train him. Show him the ropes." He winked. It made Michael furious. 

"That's not fucking- that's not-" He pointed helplessly at the window, where Franklin had grow bored and wandered off back to his doghouse. Michael's words stammered to a halt as he realized that a little, black dog tail was bouncing out between Franklin's bare ass cheeks. His stomach rolled sickly, but when he looked up to Trevor, his eyes widened in surprise. The butt of the gun struck his temple and he was out cold. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Ah shit, Trevor, this is one a' your craziest ideas yet!" an unfamiliar hick voice said, swimming into the darkness Michael was waking up from.

He felt dizzy and lost. His body was numb, especially his limbs, which he couldn't move no matter how hard he tried to thrash his body. Something stiff was holding his head in place, strapped around his neck. And as his senses came to him, Michael realized that he was completely wrapped up in something tight and suffocating. It wrapped around his head and blinded him. His arms and legs were folded and tucked to that his heels touched his ass and his hands were packaged near his shoulders. His knees and Elbows seemed glued to something. The only things not covered were his bare feet, nose, and embarrassingly enough, his ass. 

"So modest!" Trevor said, voice so loud it was riling up his already horrible headache. "I'm not the one with a latex suit layin' around. Thanks again for letting me borrow it. But call me crazy again, and I'll kill ya! Haha!"

"Hehe," the hick - Cletus - chuckled nervously. "Uh, I mean, this was a great idea!" 

Michael felt a heavy hand lay in between his shoulder blades and pet. He tried to thrash, but only his feet were able to move. They flailed and wiggled in a panic, and Cletus slapped the bare soles, laughing as Michael's efforts doubled. 

"Haha! A feisty one, he is!" 

"Exactly!" Trevor laughed. "What better punishment than to make this fucker live a life of immobility as my table!" 

Michael was having a hard time breathing. His breaths came out quick and scared through his nostrils. He felt like he might be sick, but the gag in his mouth would force him to swallow it. It's bitter, plastic taste wasn't helping things at all. 

"Well, then, let's try'er out!" Cletus said. 

"Let's!" 

Michael felt Trevor's arms snake around his waist and hoist him up. He grunted as the limb dug into his ribs, jostled as Trevor began carrying him away. Something heavy was weighing at Michael's knees and elbows, and he realized that it must have been a flat platform. One to keep him in place. He tried screaming then, behind his gag, because all this suddenly felt too real. The ground jarred painfully below him as Trevor dropped him and a boot pinned itself to his forehead. Michael stopped screaming, his nose pinned under the dirty sole. His lungs already hurt. 

"Shut up, bitch. You're my table now," Trevor scolded. "And as my table..."

Michael heard the clink of two glass bottles and the hiss and popping caps. He hissed himself when the icy cold bottles were set on his back. He tried to thrash, but Trevor's boot smashed back into his face with bruising force. He stopped moving, if only to calm to terrible pain now bouncing through his skull. Cletus slapped his ass and laughed as he started to thrash once more. 

"Shut up!" Trevor kicked him again, and Michael stopped again. He didn't doubt that Trevor might accidentally kill him, and he wasn't ready for death. Not wrapped up like this. Trevor would just dump his latexed body in the ocean. Or do something cruel and humiliating to his corpse. With Trevor, the possibilities were endless. So he let the bottles be set back on his back, and endured the terrible, painful cold that seeped down to his skin. At least the gag was something to bite on. 

"Ah~ Take a load off, Clet. Let's relax and enjoy the day!" Trevor groaned as he sat down. Heavy boots lifted up and fell atop his spin, in between the beers. Cletus kept messing with his ass, slapping his feet to get Michael wiggling a little. Trevor reprimanded him. 

"Calm it down, we have plenty of time to fuck around with my new table." That hand came back to his head, petting too hard like an old man might do to a tiny dog. "Hehe, oh, I have all kinds of things in mind."

Just then, Michael heard the sound of an engine startlingly close. It drove by and he realized that they were outside. Probably on Trevor's porch or something. He started to scream again, desperate for help. Trevor slapped him, and the pain in his head jolted horribly. 

"I told you to shut up!" Trevor snapped. "This is my neighborhood. Nobody gives a fuck about you. All they care about is drugs and more drugs. And guess who has the drugs? I'll have to let them come over and use you to load their bowls, hehe." 

His hand slipped over his nose and closed off Michael's airway. From behind, Cletus was fingering his asshole, hooking the the rim and tugging. The rim of a bottle began to push in. Trevor's hot breath ran over his wrapped face and fell by his ear. 

"I own you, bitch."

Michael whimpered. Trevor mockingly patted his face and sat back, lifting up his feet once more. 

'This is your life now, as my table. You'll die in that suit. But don't worry. It won't be today, or tomorrow. It won't be for a long time, Michael. Hehe, savor that, 'cause it's the last time you'll hear that name."

"Hehe, just like we did with that horny mutt?" Cletus laughed. "Oh, it was so much fun to tame a bitch!" 

"This one'll be even better, my friend."


End file.
